


QO2, Ahoy!

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [280]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 19:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: Our guys set sail on the QO2, their favorite ship.





	QO2, Ahoy!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katbear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katbear/gifts), [MissLearn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLearn/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta Helen  
> Laura McEwan for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3  
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia 
> 
> Song references:  
> [Harry Belafonte – Matilda Lyrics | Genius Lyrics](https://genius.com/Harry-belafonte-matilda-lyrics)  
> [Jimmy Buffett – Margaritaville Lyrics | Genius Lyrics](https://genius.com/Jimmy-buffett-margaritaville-lyrics)  
> [The Beach Boys Lyrics, Songs, and Albums | Genius](https://genius.com/artists/The-beach-boys)  
> [Miami Sound Machine – Conga Lyrics | Genius Lyrics](https://genius.com/Miami-sound-machine-conga-lyrics)  
> [Seals & Crofts – Summer Breeze Lyrics | Genius Lyrics](https://genius.com/Seals-and-crofts-summer-breeze-lyrics)  
> [Brian Hyland – Sealed with a Kiss Lyrics | Genius Lyrics](https://genius.com/Brian-hyland-sealed-with-a-kiss-lyrics)  
> [10 Best Classical Piano Music Ever Composed - CMUSE](https://www.cmuse.org/classical-piano-music/)  
> [Gilbert and Sullivan - H.M.S. Pinafore Lyrics and Tracklist | Genius Lyrics](https://genius.com/albums/Gilbert-and-sullivan/H-m-s-pinafore)  
> [10 pieces of classical music for a perfect night's sleep - Classic FM](http://www.classicfm.com/discover-music/best-sleep-classical-music/)  
> [Otis Redding – (Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay Lyrics | Genius Lyrics](https://genius.com/Otis-redding-sittin-on-the-dock-of-the-bay-lyrics)
> 
> References:  
> [Aubrey–Maturin series - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aubrey%E2%80%93Maturin_series)  
> [Figrin D'an and the Modal Nodes - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Figrin_D%27an_and_the_Modal_Nodes)
> 
> Story references:  
> [Two Straws](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1831762)  
> [Princeton Pleasures](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1953021)  
> [Valentine Sweet Sixteen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5728579)  
> [The Mastery of Ian Prentice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14335011)
> 
> Arcadian cruises:  
> 2004 -- [A Cruise for Two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1798030)  
> 2005 -- [Family Cruise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1819465)  
> 2009 -- [Valentine's Cruise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209441) (my favorite Arcadia, along with [Christmas in Williamsburg (Revised)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276173))  
> 2014 -- [Fifteen Years of Bliss](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1752830)  
> 2017 -- [Bermuda Breezes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11050047) and [Dreaming of Bermuda](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11816529)

Ian gave out a jawbreaker of a yawn that sounded like a Krayt Dragon had invaded Luke University. 

He was slumping in his desk chair at the office in Taton Hall after having just spent the afternoon advising students who were declaring an English major in the autumn. He looked over at Quinn with a tired grin. "Ready to go home?"

"Not quite yet, lad," said Quinn. "Could you bring me that stack of advising forms, please?" He was sorry to add to Ian's exhaustion, but his husband's reaction to his little surprise would be worth it.

The forms were on the filing cabinet against the far wall; Ian nodded as he got up and stretched. He grabbed them and plunked them down on his husband's desk, giving Quinn a kiss to the top of his head while he was in the neighborhood, savoring the feel of chestnut strands brush his lips. There were certain advantages to being momentarily taller than Quinn.

Just as Ian was about to go back to his desk, Quinn drawled, "While you're here, why don't you take a look at this?" He handed Ian the top pamphlet.

Ian flipped the first page and his eyes widened in delight; there was a colorful ticket holder hiding between the sheets of paper, which turned out to contain two tickets for a cruise on the QO2. "Oh, Quinn, thank you!" He gave his herven another kiss, this time on the lips.

"Summer's here a wee bit early," Quinn said with a fresh-kissed smile.

* * *

The QO2 was every bit as luxurious as Quinn remembered it. Since he had bought the tickets a couple of months before, he'd gotten an early booking discount, along with an upgrade to a suite with a balcony. He couldn't wait to share a kiss with his lad there at sunset when they set sail.

The Quality Oceanic Line had its own private island in the Caribbean called Rishey, about 50 nautical miles away from St. Thomas, where they had gone on their first cruise, back in 2004. 

They were in the Ambassador Suite on Boca Deck this time, which suited Quinn down to his toes. Since this was the fourth time they sailed on the QO2, the steward had brought them Cristal champagne in an ice bucket, courtesy of the shipping line. They were also invited to a private Captain's Gala on the last night of the voyage. Quality Oceanic had even gifted the men with fountain pens with the QO2 logo on them. 

They had just completed the Ship's Muster, a safety drill they could do in their sleep by now. They'd just come back to their cabin and were in the bedroom unpacking the luggage that the steward had brought in and stowing it in the chest of drawers.

"You packed the shorts you were wearing for the limbo contest," said Quinn, recognizing them instantly, even amid the stack of folded clothes Ian was carrying. He reached out a thumb to touch the cotton, a reminiscent smile lighting up his face. Ian had gifted him with the little silver parrot he'd won, and Quinn still had it on his nightstand at home, beside a picture of his laddie accepting Chancellor Vellum's Distinguished Teaching Award in April.

"Felt like giving you a treat," Ian said. "I'm planning on wearing them on our run tomorrow."

"I don't know about that, laddie," Quinn said, "I'm liable to catch you in two strides, and we'd best not be in public when that happens."

"Well, you packed your aquamarine swim trunks," Ian countered. "You know full well what they do to me."

Both pairs of shorts and trunks were left in the luggage after all, to the sound of chuckling.

Fortunately, besides their luggage, their steward had left them a wicker gift hamper, given to them as Crystal-Star customers by the cruise line. It was filled with gourmet cheeses, including Blue Stilton and Chevrion Goat; chocolates, including Perugina Bacis and truffles; and baked goods, including miniature spice cakes and grasshopper pies.

The men decided to leave the hamper untouched and take it home that way, since they would be getting more than enough food on the cruise. Quinn hoisted it onto the top shelf of the closet, out of the way for now. Later on at home, they could use the hamper for a picnic.

The steward had also left a bouquet of a dozen yellow roses in a ceramic vase on the dresser in the bedroom, another gift from Quality Oceanic Lines. Their color signified happiness and was considered ideal for a bon-voyage present. Luckily, the thorns had been removed because a playful Quinn took one of the roses and brushed it over Ian's cheek while his lad was putting folded shirts into the middle drawer.

The huge turbine engines began to rumble as they were finishing their unpacking. They strolled to the balcony to share a celebratory kiss at the start of their vacation. And it was quite a celebration!

"How 'bout I buy my favorite guy a drink at the Starfish Lounge for our own little bon-voyage party?" Ian's sea-green eyes looked at Quinn expectantly.

Quinn didn't disappoint him. "I'd love to, me boyo."

They paused to get their key cards from the top of the dresser and headed out the door to the Fiesta Deck.

Their seats in the lounge faced towards a huge picture window that showed the deck, where people were exchanging waves with well-wishers on shore as the passengers embarked on their adventure. Their Bahama Mamas were ice cold, ideal with the temperature in the 80s today. Somehow, the garnish of pineapple and orange wedges with cherries always tasted better than in fruit salad. The men shared a look of excited anticipation as they raised their drinks.

"To 'Fun, fun, fun!'" Ian exclaimed, quoting the Beach Boys' song of the same name.

They clinked glasses, with Quinn enjoying the look promising mischief to come in his herven's eyes.

"Let's go for a stroll on deck after dinner," Quinn said. They had come to rely on these constitutionals to keep to their fighting weight, no matter the delicious meals they indulged in on their voyages.

Ian nodded. "We'll even be able to see the coastline up close." 

They knew from experience that the coast looked dramatically different from the water after sunset, when the scattered lights made it magical.

The dinner menu in the main dining room was on a folded card in the middle of the table. They pored over it as if they were reading the original manuscript of 'The Hobbit', while they decided what to eat tonight. Their Jedi diplomacy kicked into high gear when they were faced with key decisions of what to share and what to save for themselves.

Both of them wanted the seafood gumbo for the soup course; Ian chose Beef Bourguignon for his entree, while Quinn decided on a stuffed pork chop. Each dish had mushrooms inside for the hobbit in them. For dessert, neither could resist Amaretto layer cake.

Their menu settled, they also settled into people-watching, both the passengers and those on shore. Balloons and streamers filled the air with festive colors, while a guitar player strolled around the lounge and the deck, playing a medley of '(Sittin' on) The Dock of the Bay' and 'Margaritaville'.

The men were already in a Caribbean state of mind, even amidst the iron-blue waters of the Hudson Bay. Ian started dancing in his seat to the music and sang the songs softly, since the musician didn't sing himself. Once again, Quinn gazed at his lad and saw a born performer, one equally at home in front of his classroom and in front of an audience, just as he was in their 'Ghosts in the Library' yearly Halloween presentation. And Quinn had a front-row seat to his intimate show.

"I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay  
Watching the tide roll away..."

Quinn had loved that song for decades, and now it would be an indelible part of this cruise for him. He sipped his drink while listening to Ian singing, his voice better than that of any professional entertainer, at least through the ears of love.

When the song was over, Quinn said, "'Twas grand, Ian." He chuckled. "But singing's thirsty work, m'lad." He handed his husband the rest of his drink, since Ian had finished his own.

"Thanks, love," said Ian gratefully, before taking a sip. He wordlessly handed his remaining cherry to Quinn with sparkling eyes.

Somehow, visions of a shared root-beer float with two straws and a cherry on top danced in Quinn's head.

Their drinks were included on the cruise because of the early booking upgrade, so Ian put a generous tip on the table, then they strolled to their stateroom to shower and dress for dinner. Quinn had already hung their tuxedos in the closet when unpacking, and Ian went off to get their heather-grey boxer-briefs and socks from the dresser in the bedroom. 

Then they stripped off their clothes and walked onto the rubber mat in the glass-walled shower. There was only a tiny shampoo and a tinier soap on the shelf inside, and Ian's eyes danced as they roved over his husband.

"Hope our steward brings us new ones every day," Ian said. "I could use up all the soap just washing you once."

Quinn gave out a rich chuckle. "I'd like to see you try, laddie."

"But how 'bout I get you dirty first?" Ian said playfully, his eyes aglow.

"I love the way you think, m'lad." Quinn kissed him on the forehead.

Ian's lopsided grin was an invitation to get started. Ian pressed into his herven, molding himself to every curve and angle. He kissed the skin under his lips, which happened to be the center of Quinn's chest. Then he nuzzled into him, teasing his chest hairs with every breath. He ran his hands along the smooth curve of Quinn's buttocks, feeling himself harden against his husband's thigh.

All of this glorious friction was turning. Quinn. on. He loved letting Ian have his way with him. His penis seemed to jump two feet when Ian started to blow puffs of air on his nipples and over his belly button, then followed that up with tiny licks. Ian's tongue delicately pressing into his navel had Quinn's erection butting into Ian's dimple, adding precome to the shower spray already glistening there.

Ian couldn't resist the delicious cock just a couple of inches from his lips. Instead of bending further to taste it, he dropped down to his knees on the rubber mat so he was in a more secure position to suckle it. He took Quinn into his mouth, with his husband's precome blending with the flavor of the Bahama Mama he'd had earlier.

"Laddie," growled Quinn, voice gone to gravel. He restrained the urge to thrust Forcefully and instead pushed his hips forward the least he could bear, petting Ian's dripping-wet hair to distract himself.

Grinning around his mouthful, Ian could feel the care Quinn was taking with him and returned it in kind. Keeping the suction light, he tried to prolong his herven's pleasure, cheerfully disregarding one of Master Yoda's most oft-repeated precepts. His hands were busy stroking the sensitive skin of Quinn's sac, while his mouth gave Quinn as much stimulation as he could stand. He teased all Quinn's favorite hot spots with his tongue, lavishing attention on the shaft, then swirling his tongue around the glans. 

Quinn leaned back against the wall, not trusting his footing, even with the mat. The pleasure was getting too intense for him to handle. Finally, when Ian hummed his name while suckling, he came with a roar. He distantly noticed that Ian couldn't swallow it all, and rivulets of creamy water streamed down his lad's chin. He couldn't move for an endless Moment, then he helped Ian to his feet and hugged him tight.

"Ah, laddie, what you do to me." Quinn gave a happy sigh into Ian's mouth, as they shared his cream between them in the wettest kiss imaginable. "Thank you, darlin'." He gasped when Ian's duranium erection drilled its way into his thigh and pushed back against it to give Ian the friction he needed.

"Tell me what you're craving," Quinn said in such a commanding tone it sounded like a Force compulsion.

Ian shuddered in his arms. "Touch me. *Now*!"

Reaching a huge hand between them, Quinn grabbed Ian's engorged cock, which was already slathered with precome, and surrounded it completely in a 'saber grip. Smiling wickedly at Ian's grunt, he kept the pressure up, sliding and gliding his way to giving his lad the perfect orgasm. His thumbnail -- thankfully clipped short and smooth -- dipped into the slit, bringing even more juices bubbling to the crown. 

"Qui!" wailed Ian, bucking into his husband and the irresistible Force of his hand. 

Somehow, Quinn was able to capture Ian's lips in a desperate kiss, just as he began to spurt into Quinn's palm. He waited out all the pulses, then took the cream and painted his love onto his laddie. His lips quirked as he thought of starting his calligraphy in Aurebesh, in which they were as fluent as Elvish. He formed a Qek (Q) and Isk (I), making sure they were entangled. The water washed some of it away, but Quinn was able to lick the rest off.

Ian's eyes twinkled like stars. "Good thing I came already," he said, his voice still rough from shouting. "Now we'll see if I was right about the soap." He lathered up, and both of them noticed the little bar was dwindling already. Beginning with Quinn's forehead, he methodically cleaned his husband, having to stop to get extra soap all along the way. Half the suds went to washing Quinn's groin, and it was a toss-up who enjoyed it more. By the time he reached Quinn's toes, the bar was nothing but soap film on his hands.

Quinn gave out a merry laugh. "You were right, laddie mine. The soap was no match for the task."

"Too true, but why stop there?" Ian poured a dollop of shampoo into his palm and ran his hands through Quinn's wet hair. He massaged the scalp with his strong fingers, then traced the path of the suds with his fingertip down the acres of his husband's chest, stomach, and legs.

It reminded Quinn of his earlier calligraphy, but he had to admit that Ian's freeform approach was even more provocative. Fortunately, both of them had already taken the edge off, so they could enjoy themselves without getting aroused again. "Ah, the advantages of maturity," mused Quinn. He ducked his head under the spray to wash off the suds from his hair and body. "My turn," he announced. He scooped up the remaining shampoo and lathered Ian's soft copper spikes, which had gotten that baby porcupine look he so loved. Since Ian's prediction had come true so humorously, Quinn used the shampoo to clean the rest of his laddie, too.

After Ian rinsed off, they were cleaner than a whistle, both the soap and shampoo long gone. Quinn reached for an aquamarine towel for Ian, then one for himself. They dried thoroughly, knowing that it was time to get ready for dinner. Then they took turns brushing their teeth and shaving. Putting on their formal wear layer by layer reminded them of dressing in their aikido uniforms. As always, the finishing touches were the little shamrock and four-leaf clover on their lapels.

Dashing was the best word to describe how they looked in their tuxes.

Pocketing their key cards, they couldn't resist a kiss before leaving the cabin. They ambled to the dining room on the Windjammer Deck, then waited a couple of minutes to be seated. The maitre d' led them to a table on the starboard side near a picture window, where they could see the sun low in the sky shining over an endless ocean lit by rainbow lights.

"Well, I must say that our cruise couldn't be better already," Quinn said, his voice rich with mischief borrowed from Ian.

"You got that right," said Ian, his eyes shining as brightly as the ship's riding lights. "Lucky we already decided what to have for dinner at the lounge." It was hard to concentrate on the quotidian in the face of their incredible lovemaking.

They ordered their meals, then sat back and just drifted along with the tide, gazing at each other with small smiles. 

When the seafood gumbo came, complete with lobster meat swimming on top. Catching Ian's eye, Quinn dipped his spoon in and blew on the soup, just like Ian had done earlier to his nipples. Part of him was still living in that amazing shower. After he finally tasted it, he marveled, "It's just as delicious as at The Dune Sea," one of their favorite restaurants in Greenwich Village.

Ian was always a good sport on the rare occasions Quinn teased him in public, well aware that he himself did it much more often, so he just gave him a wink and took a spoonful of gumbo. "It's marvelous. The roux is out of this world."

They focused on the here and now for the next several moments, savoring each mouthful of soup. It was so good that Ian followed Quinn's lead in spearing a small piece of sourdough bread on his fork to get every last drop of flavor. 

Quinn asked, "What are the activities tonight, Ian?" 

"First, there's a medley of songs from 'H.M.S. Pinafore' and 'Pirates of Penzance' at 9," Ian said, "then there's a classical pianist in the Starfish Lounge at 10:30." 

The men couldn't get enough of Gilbert and Sullivan. They'd once even spent the weekend in Princeton in order to see 'Pinafore' at the McCarter Theatre. 

"Sounds grand." Quinn took a sip of water to cool down after the spicy gumbo.

The waitress came by with their entrees, and both of them thanked her. Ian gave his husband a third of his Beef Bourguignon along with some baby carrots, while Quinn spooned over his mashed sweet potatoes and added a big piece of his pork chop. When he gave Ian a huge scoop of stuffing, it was a greater declaration of love than the finest sonnet because stuffing and mushrooms were Quinn's favorite foods in the galaxy.

Ian beamed at him before taking the first bite, knowing full well the significance of his herven's gesture. "Thank you, ma gradh."

Date night on the ship had begun in earnest; a leisurely vibe the men felt the strongest on the first day of a vacation. They were beyond mellow by now, taking the time to savor each smile and every bite. When they finished eating their entrees, Quinn ordered a peppermint cappuccino, while Ian asked for a hazelnut latte. The waitress brought their drinks out with the Amaretto layer cake. Last time they were aboard the QO2, little anchors in the foam had decorated their coffee; now there were ship's wheels instead.

They lingered even longer over dessert and coffee than they did over the previous courses. Both of them were reluctant to end such a magical meal. Finally, Quinn looked at his watch and said, "We'd best get going if you'd still like to see the musical."

"Guess we've got to leave sometime," said Ian, "before we turn into ice sculptures ourselves."

The theater was also on the Windjammer Deck so they made it there in only a couple of minutes. They sat in the last row of the orchestra section because the other seats were taken. At least Quinn didn't have to worry about blocking anyone's view. 

The medley of songs began with Quinn's favorite, 'Modern Major-General', and went on to include 'We Sail the Ocean Blue' and 'Give Three Cheers'. The talented young cast made the patter sublime, and the entire crowd cheered and applauded throughout the performance. The men's ears perked up when they started to sing, 'When I Was a Lad', which was not only Ian's favorite but also led to mutual teasing because 'lad' was Quinn's most treasured pet name for Ian.

After a standing ovation, they decided to take the walk on deck they had talked about earlier. They strolled hand in hand, nodding to the other passengers, and chatting in low voices. The light of the full moon streamed over the water, bringing a touch of enchantment to the night.

 

After about ten minutes, Quinn looked around the deck and saw that they were alone. Not one to waste an opportunity, he took Ian into his arms and kissed him under the moonlight, with his eyes shining bluer than the sea. 

When the two of them went back inside, they felt warmer, despite the cool of the evening. The men headed to the Starfish Lounge, glad that a pianist was performing after the energetic antics of the 'Pinafore'. They chose a table well away from the musician, since he was seated at a baby-grand piano, which was much louder than their spinet at home. The same bartender who'd made their Bahama Mamas that afternoon was still on duty and greeted them warmly. This time, they ordered Courvoisier Cognac, a mellow way to end the night's festivities.

The pianist came in while they were sipping their cognac. He was an elderly gentleman with a neatly trimmed grey beard, and he was wearing a tailed tuxedo. Starting with Chopin's 'Nocturne No. 2', he wove a nighttime spell in the room, which was enhanced by their view of the dark ocean outside their window. Then he played Sibelius' 'Romance', which was perfect for the professors, who were sitting hand in hand by now. He ended with the full version of 'Moonlight Sonata', one of Ian's favorite pieces to play. They were fortunate to have heard such an accomplished musician tonight, and they clapped enthusiastically along with the rest of the audience. 

Then they strolled to their cabin, ready to turn in for the night. Ian put the 'Do not disturb' sign on the door, while Quinn ate the Dove dark-chocolate square on his pillow. The steward had turned down their bed so all they had to do was hang up their tuxes, put on their cotton sleep shorts, use the bathroom, and get into bed.

Quinn had just enough oomph to give his lad a goodnight kiss.

* * *

Ian woke up the next morning to the sound of a seagull's cry. Today was an at-sea day, and he didn't know or care what the time was. He brushed his teeth and used the facilities, then dressed in a polo shirt and blue shorts, taking care not to awaken Quinn. He pocketed his key card and ambled to the breakfast buffet on the Fiesta Deck.

He took a glass of pineapple juice, Key lime yogurt, and a banana on his tray, a light snack to tide him over until he could eat with his husband. The wall clock told him it was 8:14 am so he was happy to let Quinn sleep in. He ate at a little table with a beautiful view of the morning ocean.

When he finished, Ian headed over to the library on the Windjammer Deck, hoping to find books for Quinn and him to read later. It took him a few minutes, but he found a copy of Forster's 'Maurice' for himself to reread and a paperback edition of Lewis' 'Out of the Silent Planet' for Quinn, knowing he loved the 'Perelandra' series. He returned to their stateroom with the books and a big smile when he saw that Quinn was awake, dressed for the day, and practicing some aikido moves in the open space in front of the couch. 

"Hello there, ma handsome," said Ian happily and threw his arms around his herven in mid-stretch.

Quinn chuckled and hugged him back. "What a greeting! I should sleep in more often."

"Got something for you. In the mood for a little 'Perelandra' during the cruise?" Ian handed him the paperback.

"Can't go wrong with C.S. Lewis," said Quinn with eyes acrinkle.

They put the books down on the side table and shared a juicy, pineapple-flavored kiss.

Ian reached up to brush an errant hair behind Quinn's ear. "Hungry for breakfast?"

Quinn's stomach rumbled before he could answer, and both of them laughed. "That would be a yes," he said dryly.

While Quinn was in the bathroom getting ready, Ian started to read 'Maurice' on the balcony. The natural light of the sun was easy on his eyes, and he instantly slipped into Forster's headspace.

As soon as Quinn was through, they went to the dining room and were seated on the port side by an ice sculpture of a dolphin. They ordered whitefish-salad sandwiches with lettuce and tomato on pumpernickel bread, along with iced coffee.

"We've got to tell Kathy and Monty about this," Ian gushed. "The best whitefish I've ever had is at their neighborhood deli."

Quinn nodded. "'Tis wonderful."

The waiter brought over a pitcher of iced coffee for them to drink while they were waiting for their sandwiches. They sat looking out at the ocean, completely at ease, the way the best vacations made you feel. Their meal came and they dug in happily. 

"Yep, it's just as good as Shelley's Deli. Mmmmm." Ian took another bite with a look of pure bliss on his face.

Quinn didn't even bother to answer; he just kept munching away. When he finished the sandwich, he asked, "What would you like to do now?"

"How 'bout reading our books on deck chairs until we can go swimming?" said Ian.

Quinn nodded. "Good idea. I'll go back to the cabin and get them while you're finishing up here." He got up and dropped a kiss on Ian's forehead.

By the time Quinn came back, Ian had eaten the last bite of his sandwich and drunk the last drop of his iced coffee. The men walked out to the deck and found two unused chairs next to each other in the shade, which made it feel like natural air-conditioning. They read for a little over an hour, then headed back to the stateroom so they could change into trunks.

Ian wore the sky-blue trunks Quinn had gotten for him last year, while Quinn wore leaf-green trunks that he'd bought for this cruise, and both wore their polo shirts and aqua shoes. Stacks of towels were available by every pool so all they had to take was one key card for their room. They went to the main pool on the Fiesta Deck and found there was enough room to swim. After draping their shirts over a deck chair and putting on suntan lotion they got from a nearby dispenser, they jumped into the pool. 

It was about twice the size of the Northland municipal pool in Alder Run, but it had twice the number of swimmers in it, too. There was a volleyball game going on in the center of it, and the men swam over to see if they could join in. They had to wait for a rotation, then got in the game. It was even more fun to spike the ball in the pool than it was on land because of all the water splashing up. They stayed for three games, which their team won, then decided to just relax in the water.

Both of them did the back float for a while, looking up at the sky as they lazed in the pool. This was what a vacation was all about. Much to their surprise when they looked at the big clock, they had been in for well over an hour. They got out, ducked under the poolside shower in turn, and dried as thoroughly as possible, then checked the schedule of activities on the large board under the clock. There was a showing of 'Jack the Giant Slayer' in fourteen minutes, which they wanted to see, then a Monopoly tournament at 3 o'clock.

They strolled back to their stateroom and changed into their Skyhawks t-shirts and shorts. Then they used the facilities and headed to the theater on the Windjammer Deck. It was fairly crowded, but they found seats together on the aisle around 15 rows back. Both of them loved the movie; action/adventure blended with humor was just what they were in the mood to see. Somehow, the actor cast to play Knight Elmont appealed to the Jedi in them.

When the movie ended, it was time for lunch. They went straight to Statura's, the ship's Italian restaurant, on the Tortuga Deck. It was a pleasure to see the reproduction of Raphael's 'The School of Athens', one of their favorite paintings, as they sat across from it again. Just like last time, it wasn't crowded because of the surcharge they paid to eat there. Quinn chose tortelloni and prosciutto in Saltimbocca sauce, while Ian wanted the shrimp scampi. They decided not to have dessert because they were looking forward to a QO2 tradition: high tea at 4 pm.

"Having fun, laddie?" Quinn asked after he sipped his water.

Ian nodded. "Lots," he said with a grin.

"I'm thinking of a nap after lunch; we don't get to indulge in them very often," Quinn said. "Are you in the mood to join me?"

"Just what we need -- to get relaxation into our pores." Ian dipped a piece of crusty bread into rosemary olive oil. 

They chatted for about ten minutes until their lunch came. Luckily, the portions were moderate and they shared their meals, as usual. The tortelloni turned out to be stuffed with Bel Paese cheese and minced vegetables, and both dishes had sauteed chestnuts on the side. Their waiter brought the men an unexpected treat for dessert -- one dark-chocolate shell filled with Gianduja chocolate-hazelnut paste for each of them. Ian added the restaurant surcharge and tip to their room tab.

The two of them walked to the elevator to get to their cabin on Boca Deck. They didn't bother taking off their clothes, just kicked off their shoes and got under the covers. Ten seconds later, they were in each other's arms and fast asleep. When they woke up, they felt like reading their books on the balcony. The balcony above them provided all the shade they needed to read in comfort.

At ten of 3, they roused themselves from their books and used the bathroom in turn before they left for the Monopoly tournament in the game room on the Fiesta Deck. Oh, did they have fun. The high-level trading and negotiations for properties suited them to a T. Ian ended up with Boardwalk and Park Place, but Quinn had a monopoly on the greens. They battled it out along with the other passengers, and Ian ended up winning the game. In a charming touch, the activities director gave him a Scottish terrier tie tack, inspired by the token Ian had chosen.

Now it was time to get ready for high tea on the Windjammer Deck. They walked to their stateroom and washed before dressing in their tuxes. In a whimsical touch, Ian decided to wear his royal-blue necktie instead of his bowtie so he could use his new tie tack, but of course, they still had the shamrock and clover in the place of honor on their lapels.

They headed over to the ballroom for tea at 4 pm on the dot. The maitre d' showed them to a table near an ornamental fountain, which was a sculpture of a sea nymph with a starfish on her lap. A strolling violinist was playing Massanet's 'Meditation' as she passed by them. Their white-gloved waiter brought over a presentation box of teas for them to choose from, with Ian having orange pekoe and Quinn picking Darjeeling. While the tea was steeping, another waiter came by with a multi-tiered tray of dainties, with everything in miniature: watercress and cucumber sandwiches; crumpets and scones with tiny pots of jam in different flavors; fruit and nut tartlets. 

The men had decided to have dinner at 9 o'clock tonight so they could enjoy both of the meals more. With that in mind, Ian ate at least one of everything on the tray, and Quinn tried out all of the jams, choosing apricot ginger as his favorite. Long after they'd finished their food, they lingered over tea and listened to the violinist.

Then the men went back to their stateroom, where they changed into shirts and shorts again. Ian got a deck of cards from the desk drawer, and they played gin rummy on the table on their balcony for almost an hour, drinking in the sea breeze along with cups of water.

"Would you like to go jogging?" Quinn asked when Ian started to fidget.

"Yes, let's," Ian said eagerly.

The men didn't even have to change, just stopping to use the facilities before they left the cabin with their key cards in pocket. There was a track circling around the ship on the Spa Deck so they headed over there. They jogged a few miles at a leisurely pace, waving to the other runners while passing by. Although it was only 74 degrees, they needed a shower by the time they were done.

They ambled back to their cabin, stripped out of their sweaty clothes, and stepped into the shower. Luckily, the steward had replaced their mini soap and shampoo after they'd finished them up in such a delectable way. They cleaned off from head to toe, then washed each other's back. Fresh towels were also waiting for them, and they dried just as thoroughly. Tonight was a casual night because of the deck party after dinner so they dressed in navy and lime golf shirts over tan Dockers.

They still had an hour before dinner and decided to spend it duty-free shopping in the stores surrounding the central atrium. Kathy and their moms got boxes of Belgian chocolate, Monty and their dads got bottles of GlenDronach Single Malt Whisky, and Lelia got a necklace with a crystal star. By the time they were through, it was almost 9 o'clock. They took the glass elevator to the Windjammer Deck and walked to the dining room.

The hostess gave them a table on the starboard side near the painting of Poseidon with his trident, which they had fond memories of from their earlier cruises. Tonight's menu featured many seafood dishes. Both of them wanted the fish chowder, then they chose the bronzed red snapper, with a dessert of apple cobbler.

Relaxing into their upholstered chairs, they decided not to bother with the rolls because they didn't want to fill up on bread. They sipped water while chatting about the night ahead.

"I can't wait for the deck party," Ian said. "I'd like to try for the head of the conga line this year."

Quinn chuckled. "Contrary to Master Yoda, maybe 'there is try' aboard the QO2." He knew it was one of his better quips when he heard Ian groan or perhaps his lad was just being generous.

The chowder came just when they were getting peckish. It boasted tiny chunks of scrod and chopped shellfish and was finished with a splash of dark rum. They had to blow on the soup before it was ready to eat, and Ian caught Quinn's eye to give him a big grin. They took their time eating, knowing that the deck party would go on through the night.

"I'm looking forward to hearing a lot of Belafonte songs tonight," said Quinn.

"And I'm looking forward to dancing to a lot of Belafonte songs tonight. You with me?" Ian winked at him saucily.

Quinn winked back in delight. "Always, laddie, always." 

Their waitress arrived with the bronzed snapper, which came with a side of mashed turnips. There was no need for diplomacy now because they'd ordered exactly the same thing, although Ian scooped up a spoonful of turnips from Quinn's plate just to keep to tradition. They took even longer over this course than the previous one, with Quinn squeezing the last of the lemons to get his fish tasting exactly right.

By the time the waitress came by with the apple cobbler, they were ready for a little something sweet. It had a small scoop of cinnamon ice cream on top, and watching it melt into the warm pastry was a sensual delight, just as watching Ian eat it was for Quinn.

Since they were already wearing their casual clothes, there was no need to stop by their cabin so they just used the restroom outside the dining room and headed over to the party on the Fiesta Deck. The hostesses wore sarongs, and one of them gave the men Mai Tais from her tray. They thanked her and strolled towards the pool, lit with multi-colored lights for the festivities. They put their drinks on an empty table and sat in wicker chairs and sipped them for a while, enjoying the calypso music.

The band started playing Belafonte's 'Matilda' and they stood up, instantly getting their Caribbean groove on. Ian was already dancing and jollying Quinn to join in with him. Nobody could resist Ian, especially a laughing, animated, *happy* Ian. Quinn just had to move, all the while smiling into his laddie's eyes.

Then their energy level revved even higher.

When the band soared into the driving beat of Miami Sound Machine's 'Conga', the men knew the conga line was sure to form now.

"Come on, shake your body, baby, do the conga  
I know you can't control yourself any longer."

Ian saw a grandma moving to the music in her seat and gave her an impish grin as he strolled up to the bandleader and bowed. Quinn put his hands on the most agile hips on deck, then a middle-aged woman did the same to him, and a line of about 60 folks assembled. Ian led them in a sinuous dance around the ship, strutting and weaving to the beat of the drums. There was such a feeling of exhilaration on the deck that everyone was caught in the spell, laughing and singing to the music. The band played song after song, and no one wanted to leave.

Finally, at 1:05 am, Quinn pointed to his Aldera watch, since he couldn't be heard over the music, and they reluctantly left the party. They didn't want to sleep the day away tomorrow, when they were scheduled to be in port on Rishey, the ship line's private island, at 10 am. The QO2 was leaving at 7 pm that night so they had to use their time wisely.

Quinn barely had the energy to put the 'Do not disturb' sign on the door and hang up his tux. Ian had already used the facilities for the night before Quinn did the same, then they got into bed and were asleep in a couple of minutes.

* * *

They woke up at 9:08 in the morning, with the sun tickling their eyes open. They shared a kiss that managed to be delicious, despite morning breath.

"I'll order in, lad," said Quinn, ever courtly. "What are you in the mood for?"

Ian thought for a moment. "A raspberry-yogurt shake, coffee cake, and a fruit cup, please."

"Sounds good," Quinn said. "I'll have the same."

While Ian showered and dressed, Quinn called room service. Ian did some sit-ups and push-ups when Quinn was in the bathroom. Their breakfast came quickly so they had plenty of time to eat before going ashore.

They had dressed in polo shirts, shorts, and sneakers, with their bathing suits, suntan lotion, books, towels, and combs in their duffel bags. Key cards, wallets, and phones were in their pockets. There was an entertainment complex on Rishey, complete with restaurants and spas with changing rooms. They checked out the eateries and decided on their favorite places for lunch and dinner.

Brightly colored cabanas were strewn along the coastline in between the palm trees. They had prepaid the activities director for a cabana for two to use while they were on the island. It would be their home for the day.

The men decided to use a changing room in the complex first; they got into their blue and green trunks, put on sunscreen, and used the facilities before going in search of their cabana. It turned out to be a wooden structure on the northern shoreline, with billowing cream-cotton draperies instead of walls for privacy, as well as sun protection. 

There was a rattan table to put their duffel on, as well as two blue recliners inside that faced the beach, which they lay down on to digest their breakfast before they went swimming.

Oh, it was paradise.

The recliners were close enough for them to link hands while they relaxed. Couples and children strolled on the beach bringing with them the sound of laughter on the breeze.

"Ah, there's nothing like a tropical vacation, laddie." Quinn's eyes shone impossibly blue. "A little bit o' heaven."

"Lovin' every wee bit of it," said Ian, squeezing his husband's fingers.

They rested for almost half an hour, then ambled along the shore, getting their feet wet when the tide came in. The temperature was in the low 80s, and the water was cool, not cold. It was the perfect time for a swim, and they took advantage of it by doing the breaststroke back and forth across the bay for a little over twenty minutes. More folks were sunning themselves on the shore than in the ocean so it was easy to swim without getting too close to the other bathers. Then they found an oversized beach ball floating on the waves and batted it to each other while they were thigh-deep in the sea. Races with the butterfly stroke brought out their competitive streak, but most were too close to call.

After all the swimming, the men decided to relax in their cabana until lunchtime and chatted while they watched the waves. 

"Did you know that Lelia still has the little green beach hat we got her in St. Thomas?" Quinn asked. "She keeps it on the first gift Han ever gave her - a Chewbacca plush toy."

Ian grinned at him. "How adorable is that?" He still remembered when baby Lelia had returned the favor by putting the hat on him. Jo had taken a picture of it, which all of them kept in their family albums.

"Hope she likes the necklace we chose," said Quinn. "She's growing up so fast, and her interests seem to change every five minutes."

Ian nodded. "Too true. At least it looks like a beautiful crystal to me."

The men drowsed a bit, then walked to the changing rooms to use the bathroom and prepare for lunch. The restaurant they'd picked had a terrace facing westward to the sea. Waving to a family that had the cabin a few doors away from them on Boca Deck, they smiled when their little boy gave them a naval salute.

They asked the hostess for a table with an umbrella on the terrace and sat gazing at a different view of the bay. The menu changed daily, according to the fresh catch, and was filled with tropical delights. Ian ordered the branzino with a lime glaze, and Quinn asked for spinach ravioli stuffed with crabmeat. Since there was no high tea for them today, they ordered dessert: papaya ice cream.

Then they sat back in their wicker armchairs and enjoyed the afternoon. Terns, tanagers, and gulls flew by occasionally, their cries reminding them of how far away from home they were.

Their entrees arrived in about twelve minutes and were easy to share -- Ian got four of Quinn's ten pieces of ravioli, and Quinn got half the branzino, in deference to his bigger appetite. Wild rice with crushed pecans was on the side, and they drizzled apricot-rum sauce over it. They were in no rush, delighting in all of the different flavors. The sea air made everything taste better.

The ice cream came and it was surrounded with bilberries, a light and cool way to end the meal.

"I've never had papaya ice cream before." Ian grinned as he dug his spoon into Quinn's dish before starting his own. 

Quinn chuckled. "Neither have I, but I'm glad we ordered it. Delicious!"

They had to pay separately for all of their meals on the island so Ian got out his MasterGuard and took care of it.

They walked back to the changing room to get into their swimsuits and use the facilities. Then they strolled onto the beach and their own little cabana, lying on the recliners once again.

"Y'know, I look forward to these vacations all year," Ian said.

Quinn smiled, his eyes warmer than the sun. "So do I, lad, so do I."

Both of them drifted off to sleep for a while, and by the time they woke up, they were ready for another dip. They put on more sunscreen and headed into the water.

This time, the men played in the ocean, swimming around as friskily as young otters. They lost all track of time without a ship's clock to go by but must have spent over an hour and a half out there. When they were on their way to the cabana to dry off, they heard the sounds of a guitar -- a beach sing-along was underway. The guitarist called out an invitation for them to join in.

Sitting down on a giant beach blanket next to a young couple and eight other folks with whom they exchanged waves, they joined in the singing right in the middle of a Beach Boys' medley of 'Surfin' Safari' and 'Barbara Ann'. Everyone seemed to know the words by heart, no matter their ages. Then came a Seals and Crofts' favorite, 'Summer Breeze', and the songfest ended with the haunting 'Sealed with a Kiss' by Udell and Geld.

Saying their goodbyes to the group, the men headed to their cabana, with Ian still singing:

"Summer breeze makes me feel fine  
Blowin' through the jasmine in my mind."

They relaxed in their recliners, this time reading their books in the late-afternoon sun. When it was 5:30, Quinn said, "We'd best get going if you'd like dinner on the island."

"Good idea, ma gradh," Ian said, stowing their books in the duffel, with Quinn packing all of the stuff from the table.

They went to the changing rooms and put their clothing back on, combed their hair, and used the restroom. Then they walked to the restaurant they'd picked for dinner earlier, Depa's by the Sea. They chose terrace seating again, this time facing the other side of the bay. Crab cakes for Quinn and lobster tails for Ian won out after much debate. They decided to skip dessert after all of the incredible food they'd had over the last couple of days.

"'Tis a delight to see you looking so happy, laddie mine." Quinn entwined their fingers over the table.

Ian gazed at his wedding band. "This is just what we needed after the semester, ma handsome," he said. "Does wonders for both of us."

Their waiter smiled when he saw them holding hands. "Honeymoon cruise?" he asked as he set down their plates. 

"In a way," Ian answered impishly, then said to Quinn after the waiter congratulated them and left, "You know I think our honeymoon's never ended."

Quinn closed his eyes in a wave of overwhelming love for Ian. "And it never will, mo fhearcheile." (my husband)

For once, Quinn had let the food grow cold while he gazed at his herven as he sat here by the sea. Finally, the restaurant clock chimed the half hour, reminding both of them that they'd better start eating soon if they wanted to make the 7 pm deadline for their return to the QO2. Their dinner was delectable, although they weren't fully concentrating on it. Quinn took care of the bill this time, his eyes crinkling when he thought of the waiter's words that led to this priceless Moment.

They walked back to the ship in contemplative silence. Fortunately, the entertainment tonight matched their mood -- a violinist would play in the Starfish Lounge when the QO2 set sail. The men used the bathroom outside the lounge, then picked a table far away from the bar. They ordered Chivas Regal tonight and sat nursing their drinks while listening to the musician. The stout middle-aged woman was a virtuoso; the men sat hand in hand while she played a foundational song of their romance: Pachelbel's 'Canon in D', which they'd heard on their first proper date after the Tolkien symposium. She continued with Bach's 'Prelude No. 1', Debussy's 'Reverie' and 'Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun'.

The beauty of the music blended with the beauty of the nighttime ocean. Quinn put his arm around Ian's shoulders on the way back to their stateroom. As soon as Ian locked the door, he dove straight into his husband's arms. They kissed passionately as they'd wanted to do for the past hour, with Quinn thinking that the Chivas Regal tasted even better on Ian's lips.

Throwing their clothes off in record time, they went straight to the bed, which had already been turned down for the night. Ian got on his back and stretched his arms out to Quinn, melting into his husband when Quinn eased on top of him. Twin sighs of happiness whispered through the room. They were half-hard already and getting harder by the second.

Quinn began a journey down Ian's body that he wished could be longer than their entire cruise. Ian's copper hair had become flyaway in the high humidity, and Quinn just loved it. He let it flow through his fingers, with the soft spikes caressing him as much as he caressed them. Quinn saw the grin in Ian's eyes before he saw it on his lips and returned it with one of his own. 

Quinn's mouth traveled from Ian's forehead down the straightaway of his nose, brushing his mouth with a teasing kiss, then onto that irresistible cleft in his chin. Ian's moans were better than any of the music they'd heard on the cruise, and they got louder as Quinn went further down.

On Quinn went, from a chest sculpted by the parallel bars to gymnastic perfection to Ian's stomach, which was delightfully ticklish, especially when licked in just the right way. Even in his desperation for Quinn's mouth on him, Ian's cock was as polite as his laddie himself. It nudged his chin, leaving a streak of precome glistening in the morning light.

That thoughtfulness should be rewarded. Instead of teasing, as he'd been doing on his leisurely tour of Ian, Quinn just swallowed him whole. Ian let out a lusty yelp and hung onto Quinn for dear life. Strong suction gripping the shaft, strong hand stroking the balls, strong forearm holding Ian down -- it was paradise for Ian. He came in glorious gushes into Quinn's mouth, with one continuous shout of "Qui!"

Quinn rested on his herven's stomach, running his fingertips through coarse thigh hairs, while Ian got his breath back. He kissed the newly quiescent cock, watching it stir minutely in thanks. 

Then Ian added his own. "Thank you, mo leannan." (my sweetheart in Scottish)

"'Se do bheatha," (you're welcome) Quinn said in the same tongue. "Are you up for another round?"

"I will be soon if you keep on rubbing my leg like that," Ian said with a twinkle.

In answer, Quinn stretched out a long arm to get the berry lube from the nightstand. At Ian's nod, he uncapped it and coated his husband thoroughly first, then himself. He positioned Ian's legs carefully, kissed his herven on the forehead in their never-forgotten ritual, and drove into him hard. He thrust until he was balls-deep, pausing to regain control so he wouldn't come too soon. Their ragged pants filled the air, Ian's renewed erection butted into Quinn's stomach, and sweat glazed their faces.

"Please!" Ian implored.

Quinn started thrusting once more, unable to ignore the desperation in that beloved voice. Again and again, he slid home, until neither of them was able to speak an intelligible word. Finally, Ian strained up for a kiss, and Quinn came with a roar. He barely controlled his descent onto Ian, but he managed to cushion his lad from the full brunt of his 200 pounds.

When he could move again, Quinn grabbed some tissues from the nightstand and cleaned them as much as possible. Then he pulled up the covers and pulled his laddie to him, as well. Their "Love yous" substituted for "Goodnights" because of sheer exhaustion.

They fell asleep just like that.

* * *

Monday was an at-sea day so it didn't matter that they awakened after 9 o'clock again. They could see last night's lovemaking in each other's eyes as they gleamed in the sunlight streaming in through the porthole.

"Hey, handsome," said Ian in a well-fucked drawl, giving Quinn a good-morning kiss.

"How's my laddie today?" Quinn said against Ian's lips.

Ian grinned. "Couldn't be better." He stretched deliciously. "I'm ravenous; how 'bout breakfast?"

They decided to get room service again so they could eat on their balcony. This time they ordered lattes, orange juice, and scones and crumpets with jam, since there was no high tea scheduled for today. They washed and dressed while waiting for their steward to bring the meal to the cabin. 

They sat at the little table on the balcony, the sea breeze ruffling their hair, without a care in the galaxy. The food tasted better out there than indoors, the salty air adding a magical ingredient.

"You've got to try the peach-cranberry jam," Quinn said. "It's out of this world." He spread some on a scone for Ian and handed it to him with an indulgent smile.

Ian deliberately brushed fingertips with him as he took the scone. "Thanks." He nibbled it. "Mmmmm. You have good taste, ma gradh."

Quinn chuckled as he tipped up Ian's chin by his dimple. "I know."

They ate while gazing at the ocean, brimming with so many shades of blue, just like their eyes. They lingered over their coffee because being on the balcony together was such a pleasure. Quinn squeaked his chair closer to Ian and put his arm around his husband's shoulders, feeling more mellow than he had on the first day of summer vacation. 

After drifting away together on the endless waves, they were ready to start their day of fun.

"What's up for today?" asked Quinn.

"Ah, you're making it too easy, ma love." Ian couldn't resist a grin at the myriad possibilities for puns Quinn's question had given him.

Quinn snorted. "If I had a penny for each of your puns, we could retire today."

Ian laughed. "To answer your question, our photos are ready in the gallery on the second floor of the atrium. Let's swing by and see how many we want." This time, the photographers had taken candid shots throughout the cruise to add a little spice to the pictures.

"Can't wait to see the photo of you on the conga line," Quinn said.

Ian winked at Quinn and started to sing:

"Feel the rhythm of the music getting stronger  
Don't you fight it 'til you tried it, do that conga beat."

Winking back, Quinn grabbed Ian's hand and they got their key cards and headed for the atrium. It took them a while to find their pictures, but it was worth the wait. The photographer had captured Ian in mid-wiggle on the conga line, a look of exhilaration on his face that Quinn saw during their katas. Quinn was in back of him, with his hands on Ian's hips, looking like the happiest man alive.

Needless to say, they bought multiple copies of the photo, all for their private use. There were some other pictures of them available: a formal one taken right before their high tea, where they looked spiffy in their tuxes; another snapped during the Monopoly tournament; a reflective shot of them on deck gazing out to sea. They got all of them, knowing their family would enjoy them, especially their moms.

They took them back to the stateroom in a manila envelope and used the facilities before going out again. Ian had read the daily activities list and remembered that there was a lecture on Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin series in the Compass and Sextant Lounge amidships in twelve minutes. The series about the 19th-century adventures of Jack Aubrey, the captain of a tall ship, and Stephen Maturin, the surgeon and naturalist, had long been one of their favorites. Fittingly, a retired Navy captain gave the speech, which to Ian's delight mentioned Aubrey's love of bad puns. He added historical background about the Napoleonic Wars to put the series in context and described the HMS Surprise, Aubrey's frigate, in exacting detail.

The men chatted about the lecture as they ambled to the ping-pong tables on the Fiesta Deck, in the mood for a little competition before lunch. They had to wait a few minutes for an empty table so they looked out at the peaceful noontime ocean until they were called.

"Can you imagine a voyage on a tall ship at full sail?" Ian said, basking in nautical romance.

Quinn's eyes crinkled merrily. "As long as we were a captain and his 'particular friend'," as Jack referred to Stephen. He loved the endearments the two of them exchanged, typical of friendships in a bygone age.

The activities director came by to tell them their table was ready; Quinn's lips quirked into a smile, and Ian knew he was thinking ahead to lunch.

Neither of them had played for a while, but they were undaunted -- high-speed serves and exciting rallies were the order of the day. Quinn's height and wingspan gave him a huge advantage, especially when smashing the ball, but the final score was only 5 games to 4 in his favor.

The men used the facilities by the dining room on the Windjammer Deck before going in for their meal. There was an Indian Food Festival for lunch, and they were salivating already. Both of them wanted the Mulligatawny soup, and Quinn asked for the tandoori lamb, while Ian chose the chicken tikka masala, with sauteed spinach on the side for each dish. They would share vegetable samosas for an appetizer and have mango-yogurt lassis (shakes) for dessert.

Quinn said, "Our ping-pong match has made me peckish."

"Aren't you always?" said Ian with a chuckle.

"Too true, laddie," Quinn said unrepentantly, sipping his water in anticipation.

Their waiter brought over warm naan bread with a spicy yogurt dipping sauce. By the time they finished the basket, he returned with the soup. It was just as good as at a little place on 36th Street they went to with Kathy and Monty. The lentils and coconut milk made it out of this galaxy.

"What would you like to do this afternoon?" Quinn asked.

"Let's go swimming," Ian said. "If the pools on the Fiesta Deck are too crowded, we'll just head to the spa."

"Sounds grand," said Quinn. "And we can read on our balcony until then."

The vegetable samosas were next, and this course was even better than the last. The little appetizers had big flavor because of the herbs and spices blended with the ground vegetables, all in delicious pastry triangles. Just as with high tea, Quinn's huge hands made the samosas look dainty as he ate them one by one.

Fortunately, the portions for the main course were moderate, since the men were already looking ahead to the Captain's Gala at 8 o'clock tonight. Their usual negotiations took place, part of the entertainment, and Ian ended up with two-thirds of the masala, with Quinn getting two-thirds of the tandoori. Both of them put a scoop of yogurt on their plates and dug in. They ate slowly, savoring each bite with its intense taste.

"We've got to ask Kathy and Monty to go with us to Chandrila's the next time we're in the city," Ian said. "We haven't been there in ages."

Quinn nodded. "So many restaurants, so little time."

The mango shakes were refreshing after their highly spiced meal, and Ian was tempted to put his straw in Quinn's to share it, but he realized that this was not a place to get too frisky. Besides, he'd already licked his lips, and he didn't want to push his luck.

When they were done, the men walked to their cabin, then took turns in the bathroom, and met on the balcony with their books. Soon, Quinn was off on another planet, and Ian was in the England of the 1910s. When they finally resurfaced, it was after 2 o'clock so they changed into their trunks, keeping their golf shirts on, and went out the door with key cards in their pockets.

As Ian had predicted, the pools on the Fiesta Deck were all filled to the brim with swimmers. They took the glass elevator to the Spa Deck to use one of the smaller pools for a surcharge. Putting their stuff on deck chairs, they scanned the deck. There was only one pool empty at the moment, and they pounced on it after slathering on suntan lotion. Oh, the luxury of swimming in your very own pool, even if it was just for an afternoon.

They played in the water as if it were their natural habitat, splashing and shouting along with everyone else on deck. The happy sounds of swimmers were always unmistakable: the whoops, the crowing, the laughter, the giggles. It was a galaxy-wide phenomenon.

Racing across the pool doing the crawl and butterfly, they felt like they were at their own private Olympics, with Ian keeping pace with Quinn, despite his huge armspan and tree-like legs. Then they relaxed and floated on their backs, enjoying the sunshine. They stayed in so long that their skin had started to prune by the time they came out.

Both of them took turns ducking under the shower next to the pool steps, grabbed towels from the stack nearby, and dried thoroughly. They put their shirts back on and walked to the library, where they surfed on the Internet for a while. Then they had to get ready for the cocktail party before the Captain's Gala. These were intimate events reserved for passengers who had sailed at least three times on the QO2 so there were only about 50 guests expected tonight. Since they were private parties, the events would take place at Statura's restaurant on the Tortuga Deck. 

After using the facilities, the men changed into their tuxes, and Ian looked more charming than ever, what with the little shamrock on his lapel and his new Scottish terrier charm on his blue necktie. Of course, Quinn couldn't resist kissing him before they left for the party, enjoying the hint of peppermint toothpaste and Ian's natural flavor. All they needed was their key cards, and they were good to go.

The men strolled to the Tortuga Deck, hearing the chords of Handel's 'Water Music' as soon as they got off the elevator. A small crowd was milling in the lobby of the restaurant, where servers were circulating with trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Quinn's eyes gleamed; he was a big man who loved his little treats. He and Ian took pina coladas, then sampled Quinn's favorite canapes: mini hot dogs in pastry; mushroom puffs, for the hobbit in them; triangles of spanakopita; tiny meat pasties.

Captain Gregory Typhon strolled around the room, greeting the passengers and taking pictures with them. After cocktail hour, the guests were ushered into the main dining room of Statura's, where the men got a booth by an ice sculpture of Aphrodite. No ordering tonight -- the chefs had prepared a special menu for all of them, starting with shrimp cocktail in lime vinaigrette. 

"Mmmmm," Quinn said. "I like this much more than the traditional cocktail sauce."

Ian grinned. "I can tell." His husband had already eaten half of his shrimp so he cheerfully forked over some more.

"It's so exciting for them to surprise us with every course," said Quinn.

"Adventures in eating." Ian patted his hand indulgently.

Quinn was even happier when the main course came -- it turned out to be their cruise favorite, Beef Wellington. He tried his best, Master Yoda notwithstanding, to eat slowly, but the delicate puff pastry and mushroom-wine sauce were not helping.

Quinn said, "I've enjoyed every Moment of the cruise, laddie mine."

"Me too. I think we're made for them." Ian swirled his Cabernet Sauvignon. "Ever since our first cruise to Charlotte Amalie, they've been my favorite vacations."

Quinn nodded. "You'd probably have to drive at least twenty miles from Alder Run to get Beef Wellington. And that's just dinner tonight; multiply that by all of the other delicacies we've shared."

"And think of the beaches and pools we've splashed in; our strolls on deck under the stars; the exotic ports of call." Ian sipped his wine contemplatively.

They mused over their adventures while they finished eating, then the dessert definitely roused them: Baked Alaska, which they hadn't tasted for over a decade, not since their cruise to St. Thomas in 2004. The blend of cake, ice cream, and meringue was sublime, a fitting coda to such a sumptuous meal.

Ian saw his husband's eyes shining and asked, "Penny for your thoughts?"

Quinn said, "I'm just living in the Moment, ghra mo chroi." (love of my heart)

"And I'm right there with you, ma hain." (husband) Ian interlaced their fingers.

After dinner, they decided to enjoy some late-night jazz in the Starfish Lounge. Much to their delight, Dan Figrino and the Mossley Band were the musicians that night. The men were acquaintances of the bandleader, having struck up conversations with him at previous performances in New York. They sat at a table for two, savoring their glasses of Irish Mist as they drank in the music. Both of them made sure to chat with Dan during a break, enjoying his tales of exotic gigs.

They dragged themselves out of the lounge after midnight, ready for bed. Even though they were exhausted, the men couldn't resist one last look at the night ocean. Stars coruscating above them, sea streaming below, they kissed in gentle bliss. Then they ambled back to the cabin with their arms around each other.

When they reached the stateroom, they made themselves hang up their tuxes, threw their shirts onto a chair, and climbed into bed wearing only their boxer-briefs and socks. They were asleep in less time than it took to say 'Baked Alaska'.

* * *

When they woke up the next morning, the QO2 was already in port at Bayonne, New Jersey. The men ordered a room-service breakfast of cappuccinos, fruit and yogurt parfaits, and oatmeal-cinnamon bars. They ate on their balcony, watching the hubbub of disembarkation while they lingered over their coffee.

Ian scuffed his chair closer to his husband. "Thank you for this wonderful vacation, ma love. I couldn't have had a better time."

"And thank you, darlin'. 'Twas a dream come true." Quinn kissed him tenderly -- the perfect finishing touch for their adventure.


End file.
